


kerosene in my hands

by otpsinfiction



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Jeronica, Vughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otpsinfiction/pseuds/otpsinfiction





	kerosene in my hands

It’s no secret Veronica Lodge has never been Jughead Jones’ favorite person. So the fact that she’s had a reoccurring feature in his dreams for the last nine months is unsettling to say the least.

He blamed Archie. Wholeheartedly.

He was perfectly content with despising Veronica from afar. After all, he hated everything she represented. Rich. Materialistic. Selfish. Vain.

Or so he thought.

Because according to his best friend she was none of those things, apart from being rich which really wasn’t something she had a say in. According to his best friend she was surprisingly down to earth and selfless to a fault and although she was well aware of her beauty and allure she never made it the most important or interesting thing about her. At least according to Archie she didn’t.

But Jughead knew the truth. No matter what pretty lies she told the redhead on her arm Jughead knew the reality of the situation. She was a Lodge. And Lodge’s aren’t people you can trust.

He’d allow Archie to live in his oblivious bubble as long as he wasn’t getting hurt. If he wanted to convince himself Veronica Lodge was the best thing since sliced bread Jughead wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He knew his best friend was head over heels. He knew he was infatuated with the raven-haired beauty who completely turned their lives upside down upon her arrival sophomore year. But he also knew there was an expiration date to their torrid love affair. He just had to wait it out.

So Jughead would continue to bite his tongue and keep his distance from the venomous snake that was Veronica Lodge and when the time comes and she inevitably breaks Archie’s heart, because she _will_ break his heart, he’ll hopefully never have to see or hear about her again.

He can finally be free of dreams of long ebony hair and seductive brown eyes.

* * *

“You and Betty are still coming this weekend, right?” He hears Archie ask from inside the bathroom. The running water almost drowns him out and for a moment he considers faking like he didn’t hear him until a tuft of red hair is poking out behind the door, waiting in anticipation. “I know you guys are having some…issues…but I think it’ll be good. For all of us.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea anymore.” Jughead sighs as he takes the corner of Archie’s bed. If he were being honest he’d say it was never a good idea. The thought of spending an entire weekend at Veronica’s family cabin twisted his stomach into knots. It was bad enough he had to see her every day at school and whenever he ventured into Pops. Was he really about to be forced to spend his free time with her too?

A really small part of him knew it was unfair to dislike Veronica just because of her parents but try as he might he just couldn’t separate the two. Maybe it was the striking resemblance she had to her mother or the twinkle of mischief she has in her eye just like her father. Whatever it was he couldn’t stop himself from burning up whenever she so much as walked into a room.

He gets up and walks back over to Archie’s slightly ajar bathroom door. “Where even is this place? If we do decide to go my dad said he wants an exact location… just in case…”

Jughead can hear Archie scoff from inside the shower. He knew what he was thinking because he thought it too. Only took FP 18 years to finally decide to be a responsible parent.

“The address is in my phone. I saved it to my notes.”

Despite his insistence he knows Betty will force him to join them this weekend. He was fighting a losing battle by thinking he had a say in the matter. With a huff he saunters back over to Archie’s bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He flops down onto his unmade sheets and comforter, not at all surprised that there’s no passcode. Archie Andrews had to be the most trusting person alive. _Or the most naïve._ He thinks to himself.

He thumbs open the notes app, rolling his eyes at one of the folders entitled “Songs about Veronica” and forwards the address to his phone to send to his dad later. He’s about to put the phone back down when Archie’s text notification goes off. Four separate messages. All from Veronica.

“Veronica texted you.” He calls out to the redhead. He didn’t know why he felt the need to let him know, he’d obviously see as much when he finally looked at his phone again. Perhaps he didn’t want his best friend to think he was snooping through his phone. Not that he ever would. Not that Archie would ever accuse him of such. But for whatever fucked up reason Jughead never wanted to give anyone a reason not to trust him. He never wanted anyone to look at him and see the darkness he saw in himself.

“Oh it’s probably about this weekend.” He hears Archie call back. Jughead can hear him turn off the shower as he does so. “What’d she say?”

“Uh.” Jughead looks down at the phone. His thumb hovering over the unopened messages. Archie would be out any minute. He could just leave it and let him see for himself. But then again he did just give him permission to take a glimpse into his relationship with Veronica Lodge and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Whenever he thought about what their conversations must sound like it always made him feel a little guilty for passing judgment on his closest friend. But it was no secret that Archie wasn’t exactly book smart and Veronica had such a snob like energy to her that all he could imagine was they spent their time talking about how beautiful they are. He saw no substance to their relationship so maybe this would help change his mind. Maybe seeing what she’s really like would help subdue the burning in his throat whenever it came to her. That darkness creeps up again. He exhales deeply through his nose and opens their text thread.

His breath hitches in his throat. There’s only one text. **_Thinking about you._** The other three messages are pictures. Of Veronica. Clad in black, lace lingerie.

He swallows harshly as he stares at Archie’s phone. He wasn’t a blind or stupid man. Even with clothes on it was clear to anyone with eyes that Veronica Lodge was a stunning specimen. But seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so…_sexy_… felt intrusive.

Tearing his eyes away he scrolls up a little to see what they had been talking about previously.

** _I hate my father. I hate this stupid town. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Archie. I feel like I’m suffocating. _ **

** _You’re gonna be okay Ronnie._ **

And then a follow up text from Archie an hour later. **_Call me back please. _**

That was a week ago.

Immediately Archie’s comment earlier about this weekend being good for _all_ of them made a lot more sense. He doesn’t have much time to give it more thought before Veronica sends another text. He scrolls to the bottom. This time it’s a video. From what he can see she’s standing in front of a full body mirror wearing a different set of lingerie. But he doesn’t dare press play. His heartbeat quickens as less than noble thoughts begin to take over…  
  
_No._  
  
He pushes the darkness down and swallows the lump in his throat, quickly locking the phone just as the redhead exits from the bathroom. Confused by the guilt he’s suddenly feeling he tries to play it off as if he’s completely unbothered. His tone is dry as he tosses the phone at Archie, not at all surprised by how effortlessly he catches it. “A little warning next time would be great.”

Archie furrows his brows together as he unlocks his phone. The smile that blossoms on his face when he sees her pictures makes Jughead feel sick to his stomach. And he doesn’t understand why. But more importantly he hates it.

And in that moment he decides that he has to hate her too.

* * *

Cinnamon.

Veronica Lodge tastes like cinnamon.

Not a strong cinnamon, no, it’s more soft and warm like cinnamon and toasted almonds and honey.

Nevertheless, it’s still an answer to a question Jughead didn’t realize he had.

He hated to admit he already memorized the way she smelled. The fancy, luxurious perfume he couldn’t pronounce that she always wore lingered on Archie and every surface of the redhead’s room and whenever B and V had a sleepover Betty’s sheets always smelled of the intoxicating brunette. Needless to say, it was hard not to notice it.  
He even knew that her hair smelled like lavender with the faintest hint of sweet orange. The only reason he knew that was because of a one-off group hug they shared at the hospital when Fred Andrews was shot. It was inappropriate timing in the moment, but the smell of her hair intoxicated his senses for the rest of the night. Every time he breathed in it was distinctly lavender and orange. Not vanilla and sugar like Betty. Or Irish Spring and Old Spice like Archie. It was like he was breathing in Veronica Lodge and he hated lavender ever since.

He made sure to keep a safe distance after that.

But just a few hours ago the four of them were in a hot tub and things took a turn that he was not expecting. A kiss to “clear the air” she called it. “A way to level the playing field” he joked in an attempt to make light of the situation after seeing the guilty look on Betty’s face. He knew she was worried he was upset over her spontaneous kiss with Archie but truth be told he was more angry that she lied about it than the kiss itself. Archie and Veronica seemed completely unbothered by it so why should he be worried? Archie wasn’t a threat to their relationship… was he?

But still, even with Veronica’s suggestion, never did he think she would actually stand up and kiss him. Never did he think her tiny frame would effortlessly pull him towards her lips. He realized he must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights, but he should have known better than to underestimate a Lodge. Veronica may be a lot of things, but it was evident she never backed down. He at least could respect that.

Now if only he could get the taste of her kiss out his mouth…

“How was it?”

Jughead furrows his brows as he looks up to see Betty standing in the doorway still sporting her thick, fuzzy, pink robe. It isn’t until he hears her voice that he realizes he had been rereading the same sentence in his book over and over again. His mind far off thinking thoughts he was too ashamed to admit. Too much darkness. He clears his throat as he addresses her, “What?”

“I said, how was it?” She drawls it out, tilting her head to the side as she looks at him. Jughead narrows his eyes, still haven’t caught on. “The kiss with Veronica.” She clarifies and his heart stops just a little. “Did you…like it?”

He closes his book, this time giving her his undivided attention. Her gaze is piercing through him and there’s a sliver of something he doesn’t quite recognize right away. Jealousy maybe? He internally scoffs at the idea. There was nothing to be jealous about. It was just one kiss. It would never happen again.

As he studies her face it hits him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar look, just one he hadn’t seen in a long time. Since the beginning of sophomore year to be exact.

Insecurity.

He smiles at her softly, sitting up straighter in bed. “I know entrapment when I hear it, Betty.” He jokes, hoping it would lighten up the mood but her face stays cold, not an ounce of amusement in it. He watches her push off the doorway and head into the bathroom. A beat of silence passes and he’s already back to his book when he hears her speak again.

“You’ve been bad.” She says in a singsong manner and Jughead can’t help but chuckle. His eyes are still staring at the same paragraph when he hears the sound of high heels walk across the floor toward him. That catches his attention immediately. “You need to be punished.” Betty says in almost a whisper, causing him to finally look up.

The confused look doesn’t leave his face as he looks her over.

Black heels. Black mini skirt. Black bra. Black wig.

She looked like…

He swallows hard and Betty must notice because her burgundy painted lips twist up into the tiniest smirk. And it feels so wrong to see her smile while wearing that color on her mouth. To see her with raven hair and a black mini skirt with stilettos to match. It was like being in the twilight zone. Was he hallucinating? Was this his guilty consciousnesses’ way of punishing him for the impure thoughts he had earlier about a certain raven-haired princess?

Before he can process any of it, Betty’s on top of him.

His hands gliding over the black miniskirt that deep down he knew didn’t belong to her. The jet-black synthetic hair tickling his cheeks as the burgundy lipstick that looked so foreign on her lips smudged against his skin. He squeezes his eyes shut and he swears he can smell lavender.

And then her mouth is on his.

But he doesn’t taste cinnamon.

And he hates himself for being disappointed.

* * *

Like a moth to flame the soft glow of the television draws him into the living room. He needed fresh air. Or so he told her. Really, he needed a cigarette, but after what just happened he didn’t need yet another thing to argue about.

He’s not surprised to see Veronica lounging across the loveseat. She mentioned in passing once that it took her forever to fall asleep. Why he remembered that tiny insignificant detail he couldn’t tell you… He is surprised, however, to see that Archie isn’t with her. Her long ebony hair that usually hangs loose rests against her collarbone in a still wet, messy low braid. From the look of her appearance – clad in a black silk robe and black rimmed glasses perched on her nose – she must have just gotten out of the shower. And Jughead shames himself for wondering if she used her lavender shampoo…

The back door that leads outside is directly across from him. He could easily bypass her without her even knowing but instead he finds himself slowly approaching her. The closer he gets the easier it is to make out what she’s watching. An _I Love Lucy_ rerun. He smiles in spite of himself as he closes the space between them.

“Which one is this?”

Veronica doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even bother to look up at him, she simply answers. “Only the best episode of _I Love Lucy_ to exist.”

“Ah.” Jughead nods, taking the opposite sofa. “The Million Dollar Idea.”

At that Veronica turns to him, her big brown eyes widening in disbelief. “Don’t be daft.”

Jughead narrows his eyes at her. “What?”

“You can’t actually think Million Dollar Idea is the best _I Love Lucy_ episode.” She says so matter of fact that Jughead almost smiles.

He scoffs instead. “Oh and what, pray tell, do _you_ think is the best one?”

“Lucy Does a TV Commercial.” She answers without hesitation.

“Oh come on that is such a bandwagon, cliché answer.”

Veronica looks at him incredulously. “That is rich coming from a literal embodiment of a John Hughes trope.”

“Be that as it may you cannot deny that Million Dollar Idea is a great episode.”

“Of course it’s a great episode! They’re all great episodes! But being a great episode doesn’t make it the best.”

“You are unbelievable you know that?” He shakes his head at her and for a split second he swears he can see her biting down a smile. “Okay fine how about this. Top three.”

Veronica rolls her eyes at him before pursing her lips. “Lucy Does a TV Commercial has to be one.”

“Fine. But so does Million Dollar idea.”

“Fine.” She relents. “And the other?”

There’s a pause and then, they both answer, simultaneously. “Hollywood at Last.”

Their amused smiles and soft chuckles die out and a comfortable silence fills the room.

“You know I’ll be honest I never took you for a 1950’s sitcom connoisseur. I always pictured you as more of a _Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_ kinda gal.”

Another playful eyeroll is thrown his way. “I am a multifaceted creature, Jones.”

“Yeah…” He swallows hard. “I’m starting to see that.”

There’s a lingering moment between them that causes his stomach to flutter and it’s accompanied by a vaguely familiar feeling of guilt. Before he can think on it too long, Veronica looks away. “So not that I don’t enjoy our little frenemy banter but why exactly are you out here talking to me at two o’clock in the morning? Shouldn’t you be in bed with Betty?”

“I guess I could ask you the same thing.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Why aren’t you with Arch right now?”

“Archie has yet to realize he’s quite the lightweight.” She smiles to herself, “He’s currently knocked out on our bed, completely star fishing it. I didn’t have the heart to wake him, so I figured I’d crash down here for the night.” Jughead nods but doesn’t offer up an explanation of his own. Veronica raises an eyebrow at him. “Again I ask, why’re _you_ out here?”

He stalls for a moment, looking anywhere but at her. “Betty and I – we, uh, I mean… I needed some air.”

A beat of silence passes as Veronica studies him. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you actually care or are you just asking so as not to disrupt some outdated unspoken hostess rule?”

The insulted look coloring her features feels like a slap in the face. Jughead knows he’s crossing a line but he can’t help himself. Word vomit.

“Betty’s my best friend. Of course I care.”

Despite his better judgment, and every bone in his body telling him to shut up, he persists. “So Lodges _are_ capable of caring…interesting.”

The immediate change in atmosphere makes it hard to swallow down the knot in his throat. There goes that darkness again. Veronica glowers at him and suddenly, for the first time in his life, he understands the saying ‘if looks could kill’. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Her tone is so exasperated that it catches him off guard. “Wh-what?”

“What is your deal? I mean seriously Jughead, why do you hate me?” She doesn’t give him the chance to answer before she’s at it again. “We have the same friends, we take the same classes, we even like the same pretentious crap and yet you treat me like a walking plague. Why? I know you hate my father and I get it, trust me I do, but why do you hate _me_? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“You didn’t do – I don’t hate you, Veronica.” He stammers, forcing himself to his feet. Forcing himself to tell the truth once and for all. He didn’t hate her. And it was a hard pill to swallow. Despite knowing this he wasn’t in the mood to get into it and for whatever reason it was getting increasingly harder to look at her. To his dismay Veronica stands up as well. He was right before. She really doesn’t back down.

“Then why do you act like this?”

Jughead runs a hand through his hair, letting out a huff. “Like what?”

“You’re nice to me one minute and then the next…" Her voice trails off as their eyes meet for the first time since he stood up. Jughead’s heartbeat echoes in his ears as she closes the space between them. Without her heels on the height difference becomes impossible to ignore. He wants to make a snarky joke or snide comment about it. He wants to go back to ten minutes ago when they were talking pop culture and his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest. Before he ruined another harmless innocent interaction.

Or maybe that was it. None of their interactions since the day they locked eyes in Pop’s diner have been harmless or remotely innocent. Maybe on the outside to a wandering eye or to someone who doesn’t know or care to understand the dynamic of their core group of friends. Maybe even to Betty and Archie who summed up their relationship as two sort-of friends who bickered and only put up with each other because of their significant others. But he knew the truth and the truth made it so easy to pretend that he hated her.

The truth was he was drawn to her. Moth to flame. He recognized the darkness he saw inside her because it was the same darkness that radiated through his veins. It wasn’t a borrowed black mini skirt and polyester wig kind of darkness like Betty. Something she could peel off when she was ready to be the perfect girl next door again. Or a hero syndrome darkness like Archie whenever he strayed from the right path but always for the right reasons. Jughead and Veronica’s darkness was embedded into their skin and flowed through their blood. It came natural to them. They saw right through each other’s façade from the very beginning. And he tried, tooth and nail, to convince himself that he hated her and everything she represented but at night his dreams still featured ebony hair and ox blood nails gliding across his skin.

He saw himself inside her in more ways than one and that was what he really hated the most. The undeniable kinship he had no control over with his best friend’s girl.

She must realize how close they’re standing because he can see realization cross her face as she swallows hard and takes a step back. “Maybe we’re just too much alike to make this work…” She says in an almost whisper.

It feels loaded. Like it’s stacked in a double meaning he doesn’t quite understand just yet.

“Look—” She sighs, taking off her glasses. Her voice still barely audible. “Can we please just agree to be civil from here on out? Just…start over.”

“For Betty and Archie’s sake.” He whispers back. He realizes it sounds like a statement but it’s absolutely a question. Would that be the only reason why?

“Yeah.” She answers slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “For Betty and Archie.”

Jughead nods and Veronica takes that as her cue to leave. She’s halfway to the kitchen when he opens his mouth again. “I saw your pictures.”

_Fucking word vomit._

Veronica stops in her tracks and slowly strides back into the living room where he’s still standing. “Come again?”

Jughead takes a deep breath. “In the spirit of starting over… you should know that I saw the pictures you sent Archie yesterday.”

When Veronica doesn’t respond he continues. “It was an accident. He was in the shower and I was getting the address off his phone when you texted him. He figured you were texting him about the trip so he told me to check… I don’t know I just… felt like you should know.”

“And?”

“Wha—” Jughead freezes. “And what?”

Veronica raises an eyebrow up at him. The frustrated look she had in her big brown eyes before is replaced with playfulness. She looks amused and his heart begins to race again. “And what’s the verdict?”

To his dismay he can’t help but smirk in response. His tone is thick with sarcasm as he boldly allows himself to give her a once over. “Should be hung in The Louvre.”

She smiles softly, rolling her eyes at him. Nothing else is said. And in that moment nothing needs to be. There’s an unspoken understanding between them. A look that says _‘it is what it is’_.

He watches her walk away and hates himself for being relieved when she spares him once last glance over her shoulder.

That night he dreams of cinnamon and black lace.


End file.
